A Christmas Miracle
by mercscilla
Summary: Atlantis' first Christmas Eve back on Earth but John feels anything but jolly. The one thing he wants most he will never have. Or so he thinks. He didn't count on Santa.  post-Season 5


**Author's Note:** Might sound a bit OC but I blame Santa for that. He hijacked this story. Done for the "Sparky Advent Clandar 2010 - Day 23" at john_elizabeth / sparky_advent at LiveJournal.  
**Disclaimer:** I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

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It is a quiet night this year's Christmas Eve. The only sound are the waves, gently hitting the lower docks, the slow humming of the active ZPM, cloaking the city from curious (an unfortunately sometimes greedy) eyes, and the faint Christmas music drifting through the open door.

John leans against the pillar, his posture relaxed but his mind not, and watches the stars above and their mirror images beyond, reflecting on the ocean's surface.

Laughter and snippets of conversations echo from the control room but John is not in the mood to join them. His fist clenches against the railing and he fights the urge to hit something.

_It's like an early Christmas miracle._ were General O'Neill's words when they arrived a month ago. _Celebrating the season of joy, happiness and hope with your loved ones on Earth._

Joy. Hope. _Loved ones_. John scoffs as he remembers the General's speech. He can't deny that O'Neill was right - their return could have ended in a disaster but luck and not a certain amount of stubbornness made sure they survived - but the one thing John really wants for Christmas has been the same for two years now. _Loved one_.

John has never given up hope. Every day he remembers their little moments of joy and happiness, few as they were. Every night he dreams of saving her, returning with her to Atlantis and spending the last two years with her by his side.

"Damn it, Elizabeth," he whispers harshly, "how could you lea-"

"My, my, you always were and still are a difficult case to find a gift for, you know that, young Sheppard?"

John's hand goes to his gun and he whips around so fast he nearly loses his balance and it's only the railing at his back that keeps him from tumbling three stories down.

"What the-?" With his weapon trained on the intruder, John studies the vision before him, not really believing what he sees.

White beard, red coat with white collar and cuffs, white-cuffed red trousers, black leather belt and boots - someone who looks suspiciously like _Santa_ has come to Atlantis.

"Would you mind putting that away?" The Santa look-alike gestures towards the gun. "I know boys like their toys but I can assure you, I am not here to harm you." Patting the seat next to him on the bench he is sitting on, the man gives a deep-drawn sigh and leans back against the window-wall. "C'mon, young Sheppard, take a seat and let's talk about your gift this year."

Lowering his gun, John eyes the man from beard to boot and slowly walks towards the bench. He has come across many weird situations and people but this is topping them all.

"_Who_ are you?" The question springs from his mouth before he can stop himself and when he is seated next to the man looking like Santa, John feels tempted to poke him, just to make sure he is real.

Santa laughs, deep and hearty, and his laugh fills John with a warmth he hasn't felt in two years. "Ah, the question of all questions." Turning his head towards John, Santa winks at him. "Can't you guess? You've met my kind so many times now..."

John blinks, once, twice, racking his brain for the answer and then he sees it and he can't believe he missed it.

There's a white glow surrounding Santa, tendrils of pure light dancing across the man's figure.

"You are an Ancient?" John's voice is filled with disbelief and yet...

Santa nods, folds his hands over his belly and stretches his feet. "You always were a smart one, young Sheppard." A tendril of light hovers over Santa's beard for a second and then starts twirling around it.

"Yes, I am an Ancient. An ascended Ancient. When the others left Earth to live on the higher plane of existence, I chose to stay behind."

The tendril abandons the beard and carefully makes it way towards John. Halfway it stops and waves from side to side, looking like it is waiting for permission to touch him. John raises his free hand, palm facing up, and the tendril curls around his fingers. It's like the touch of a feather, light and yet warm.

"I like you humans. You are very fascinating and even before I decided to become Santa, I liked giving you what you desired most."

John feels the tendril of light moving up his arm, around his shoulder until it reaches his neck, and then ear. The tiny energy spikes tickle his skin and he squirms on the spot.

"All you have to do is _ask_ for it." And the tendril wraps around John's ear and yanks him down.

"Ouch! Wha-? OwowOWKAY!" Tumbling from the bench John lands on his knees, his head pulled back and to the side by the tendril, his gun clattering to the ground. In this position he's looking straight at Santa's eyes, eyes that by now are filled with tiny sparks.

"All your life you had problems with asking for things you wanted, young Sheppard, especially for things you want most because you think you don't deserve them."

"I have no idea what you are talking about." John pulls back, turns left, then right but the tendril holds on tight and as he reaches up to grasp it, it zaps him.

"Stop twitching and listen to me, young boy." Santa leans forward until his nose nearly touches John's and when he speaks again, his voice is strong and John stops trying to free himself.

"Five years ago I watched you go through that Gate, finding the city I once called home. Ever since I come here every Christmas, sharing the spirit of the season with you but the last five years I have also becoming quite frustrated with you and a certain young lady."

John knows right away whom Santa is talking about and his eyes turn hard. "She is no longer her-"

"Hush, let me talk." The tendril zaps John again and he bites back a curse. "I know that. And that is exactly the point. The first three years both of you had the same wish but not once did you _speak it out aloud_, making it impossible for me to fulfill it."

"What are you tal-?"

"Ah, I am not finished yet." Santa leans back again while the tendril keeps on holding John down although he is too occupied figuring out where this whole conversation is going to care.

"The last two years you were also wishing for something, just like your young lady, but again both of you didn't say the words I needed to hear."

Standing up, Santa steps past John towards the railing and turns around. "But no more. I am going against all my rules by doing this but I really, really like you, young Sheppard, and I like your Elizabeth, quite the feisty spirit she is, and I cannot watch your agony any longer."

The tendril loses its hold on John and as it moves back to Santa, the man himself turns into his true, ascended form.

"I want you to repeat these words, John: _I want Elizabeth Weir for Christmas_."

As if in trance, John nods, still on his knees, obvious to everything but the Ascended before him, and speaks the words he always wanted to but never dared to say out loud: "I want Elizabeth Weir for Christmas."

Santa chuckles, his eyes twinkling and the tendrils of light glow brighter than ever.

"See? That wasn't very hard, was it?" John shakes his head, springs to his feet and glowers at Santa. "What was that?"

"Nothing. Just a little Christmas Spirit." Santa's grin widens. "Oh, and a very Merry Christmas with your gift, young Sheppard. Enjoy it!" And he disappears in a shower of sparks.

Silence reigns but only for a moment.

"Well, at least he didn't do the ear thing with me."

For the second time in one night John whips around and stares at the one thing his heart and soul longed for since he first met her.

"Elizabeth...," her name is a breathless gasp.

Elizabeth's smile is pure joy, tears shining in her eyes, and she nods. "Yes, John, it is really me."

In less than two steps John has reached her but stops inches from her, afraid that this is all a dream after all. It is Elizabeth that takes the last step, closing the remaining distance between them, reaching up to John's face and caressing his cheek.

At her feather-light touch John sighs and a smile of his own tugs at the corners of his lips. Grasping her hips with one hand and her neck with the other, anchoring her to him – he is not taking any chances this time - he leans down and exhales against her mouth.

"I missed you, 'Lizabeth."

"Not as much as I missed you, John."

And then, after five years of hoping and wishing, John Sheppard is kissing Elizabeth Weir.

Above them a red figure on a reindeer sleigh rides across the sky, leaving a trail of sparks behind, showering the intertwined figures on the balcony of the once lost but now found city of Atlantis with the Spirit of Christmas.

- END -


End file.
